


Resolve

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, episode 186 spoilers, genuinely can't think of other tags here, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 186!!!"I've been here," Martin says. "On the moors. Walking, and... just thinking, really. Talking to myself."Jon finds Martin.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 22
Kudos: 183





	Resolve

Hours.  _ Hours  _ Jon has been trekking across this empty, rainy moorland. The clouds above him remain a uniform grey, the grass beneath his feet a darker counterpoint. The rain falls in endless sheets, soaking through his clothes and hair, and his voice is hoarse and thin from calling.

He knows Martin is okay. He  _ Knows  _ he is, but he cannot see him, he cannot  _ reach  _ him, and he doesn't know why. He won't Look, though. He promised he wouldn't Look.

So he just keeps walking. Intermittently he will pass another person wandering the hills, lost in their own private misery and loneliness. He sees their stories, of course, he Knows them - but they cannot know that he does, and he cannot impart that knowledge onto them, for that is the whole and entire point of this place.

_ "Martin!" _ he calls again, and the word is whipped away by a chill gust of wind. He shivers. While it is true that he is impervious to most physical ailments in this remade world, the cold here goes far beyond a simple change in temperature.

Jon keeps walking.

And walking.

And walking.

Finally,  _ finally, _ something in the air changes, and he looks ahead to see a break in the endless cloud cover. There, on the next hill over, the rain has let up, and a small patch of green shows through the unchanging monochrome of the grass.

In it stands Martin, spinning in a small circle with his face turned up to the sky, hands held out to catch the last few drops before they vanish entirely.

"Martin," Jon breathes, the word carried on a rush of dizzying relief, and then he shouts it.  _ "Martin!" _

Martin spins around again, spotting Jon and lifting a hand in greeting. Jon takes off, sprinting toward him as fast as he can up the hill. Martin walks in his direction at a far more sedate pace. The clouds disperse ahead of him, bringing light and color back into the world where he walks.

The collision is damp and squishy when Jon barrels into him, their clothes squelching as water is squeezed out by the force of the impact. Martin lets out a muffled oof as Jon's arms wrap around him, stumbling for second to maintain his balance.

Jon barely notices, far too focused on kissing him senseless.

Martin catches on after a moment, arms winding around Jon's waist to hold him close as Jon's hands find their way into his hair. He tastes like tea, though it's not a blend Jon can identify second-hand; certainly nothing Martin ever made for him.

All too soon, the breathlessness of sprinting halfway down and then up a steep hill catches up with him, and he has to break the kiss to gasp for air. Martin smiles as he rests their foreheads together, eyes glowing with a warm humor.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," Jon echoes. "You're- it was-" He tightens his hand in Martin's hair, keeping a solid and secure anchor between them. "You disappeared."

"So did you, from my end of things," Martin says, and he sounds strangely calm about the whole thing. "I knew you'd find me eventually."

"Are you alright?" Jon asks, electing not to mention the fact that he didn't so much  _ find  _ Martin as  _ stumble into him. _ He has a feeling the domain itself was preventing him from locating Martin sooner, and he doesn't know how Martin will react to that if he tells him.

Martin deliberates for a moment, head tilting to the side as much as it can while still pressed to Jon's. "Yes," he says after a minute. "Yes, I... I really thing I am."

Jon breathes out, relief washing over him. "What... what happened?" he asks. "Where did you go?"

"I've been here," Martin says, still sounding calm and... peaceful. It would worry Jon, this echo of the Lonely detachment in his voice, if he couldn't hear the quiet emotion undercutting it. "On the moors. Walking, and... just thinking, really. Talking to myself." He smiles, as though there is some secret joke to his words.

"Stopping for tea?" Jon asks, pressing another kiss to his lips to confirm it.

Martin snorts. "You can taste that, can you? Bloody oolong."

Jon does not know why Martin has a grudge against oolong tea, and it does not feel like a pressing enough issue to ask about at the moment.

"And..." he says slowly, hesitantly. "How was it? Your... your domain." He is aware that asking about it may be akin to treading on a landmine.

But Martin just nods, a faraway look in his eyes. "It was alright," he says. "I think I'm... I've come to a resolution. About having a domain, I... I've accepted the responsibility, and everything it entails."

Jon waits for him to elaborate; he does not.

"That's... good?" he says, hesitance kicking his voice up a note at the end of the word.

"Yes," Martin says. "It is. This was... it was good for me, I think. Having some time to myself, to come to terms with it. I'm sorry that I scared you, disappearing like that."

"It's fine, Martin," Jon says, though he knows the calm words are belied by the fact that he is still clutching him close as though he'll never let go. "I'm just glad you're alright. And I'm glad that it helped." Martin looks so much steadier than he has in... for as long as Jon can remember, almost. So much more sure of himself.

"Yes," he says. "It did. I know what my choices are, now. Mostly, at least. I know what I'll choose." There is a quiet resolve in his voice; a steely determination in his eyes.

_ Martin is willing to sacrifice himself to save the world. _

The thought hits Jon with the force of certainty, though he knows it is not due to any sort of supernatural insight. He just knows Martin too well.

Close on its heels comes another, burning with a fierce and steady determination:  _ I won't let him. _

Whatever happens, Martin will not die. Not if Jon has any say in the matter.

"I'm glad," is all he says. "I know it's been weighing on you."

Martin smiles. "Thanks," he says. "How about you? Are you... okay?"

"Better now I know you are," Jon says, giving him one last quick kiss before finally peeling himself away. Their clothes stick together as they lean back, and the damp noise when they finally separate is not pleasant. "And now that the rain's stopped."

Martin hums. "I didn't mind it, really. I like the rain."

"It can be nice in moderation," Jon concedes. "But I'm rather glad it doesn't extend past the borders of your domain."

Martin looks around them, at the rolling hills slowly drying in the aftermath of the storm.

"Strange, that. We didn't... I don't remember actively leaving it."

"Dream logic," Jon murmurs. "Transitions, distance... it's all a matter of..."

"...Metaphor," Martin fills in, when Jon pauses to find the right word. "The journey is the journey, and I've taken the next step on mine. No reason to hang around."

Jon nods. "Metaphor, yes." He wonders what step it is that Martin has taken. What it was that he needed to be alone to understand. Whatever it was seems to have brought him peace of mind, for the moment at least.

Martin holds out his hand to Jon. "So. Shall we metaphorically continue?"

Jon smiles, and takes it. "As pilgrims on their eternal quest, I suppose."

"That's a simile."

"What?"

Martin smiles, tucking his free hand in his pocket as they start walking. "It's a simile, not a metaphor. If you use 'like' or 'as', it's a simile."

Jon considers this for a moment. "Poetry know-it-all," he eventually declares.

Martin snorts. "You're one to talk."

"I know," Jon says, with just enough gravitas in his voice to get Martin laughing again.

Jon leans to the side, bumping his shoulder into Martin's as they walk, and enjoys the sound. Whatever Martin went through in his domain, he is here now, and he is alright, and that is the important thing.

"I love you," he says, unprompted, and Martin turns to him with a warm look in his eyes.

"I love you too," he says, and squeezes Jon's hand. "Whatever happens. Whatever's waiting for us. I love you."

"Until the end of everything and beyond even that," Jon says quietly, and Martin nods.

"Yes."

A soft breeze whispers by, rustling through the grasses and cooling on their drying clothes. Overhead, the sky is clear and watchful, the last remnants of the storm just a few tattered clouds on the horizon. In front of them, the tower looms, growing larger with each step they take toward it.

They walk on.


End file.
